


Changing Tack

by Dhae



Category: NCIS
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhae/pseuds/Dhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs wants to teach Tony a thing or two. Tony's open to suggestions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Tack

”Move, DiNozzo.”

Gibbs shoved Tony aside with a nudge of his shoulder. Tony grumbled, but moved to the side, watching how Gibbs undid the buckle efficiently. Learning from Gibbs was nothing new. If he was honest with himself, neither was watching the man, just for the pleasure of it. 

He watched the bunch and play of muscles in Gibbs' shoulders and arms as he lifted the heavy saddle, resettling it and then sliding it backwards a little. Then the graceful, efficient hands, long fingers grasping the buckle, then the firm fist as he cinched the girth tighter. 

“I get the distinct impression you haven't done this before,” Gibbs commented wryly, pulling Tony back from his little fantasy-world, just in time to have the reins handed to him. 

“Really?” Tony replied, sarcastically. “What was your first clue?” 

Gibbs glared at him – hard – holding out the stirrup for Tony to mount. Tony figured he'd better get on with it. 

For some stupid reason, it was actually Gibbs' hands, fixing the position of his boot in the stirrup that was his undoing. 

Tony knew Gibbs was attractive, of course, and not just theoretically, either. But... this; this stupid, little thing; Gibbs right hand wrapped firmly around his ankle, his toes trapped in Gibbs' left. The loss of control over that extremity, the surrender to Gibbs' will – it combined to slam into Tony's balls like erotic lightening. 

Tony couldn't suppress a groan at the instant arousal, and Gibbs' hands tightened as he looked up and their eyes locked. Tony – terrified but wanting to surrender. Gibbs – puzzled at first, until realization struck and puzzlement was replaced by desire. No. More than that. _Hunger_.   

Tony shivered. 

“Get off that horse, DiNozzo. Riding lesson's suspended.”  

Tony swallowed through a dry throat, but did as he was told. 

He'd barely returned the saddle to the rack, before he was being spun and found himself pushed, back first, against the door to the tack-room – now, thankfully, closed.  

Tony didn't – couldn't – fight Gibbs. Not even when he reached down to grab Tony's wrists in callused hands and slammed them into the door besides Tony's head. Tony let out another embarrassing moan at being restrained like that. 

“How long,” Gibbs ground out. “How long could I have had you?” 

Tony whimpered a little at the implied promise. 

“Any time, Boss. Any time,” he said and was rewarded by Gibbs pressing close, squashing Tony between the unyielding door and Gibbs' almost as solid body. Then Gibbs started moving his hips, and Tony whimpered again. 

It was sensory overload. His sense of touch focused on rough hands, hard body and hot thrusts that let him feel every inch of Gibbs' hard cock. His sense of smell overwhelmed by leather and sawdust and _Gibbs_. His sense of sight lost in the pleasure and the solid, blue gaze Gibbs kept fixed on him.  

His sense of taste was next to go, as Gibbs simply reached up and _took_ Tony's mouth, exploring him, _conquering_ him. Leaving him with a mouth full of Gibbs-tastes.  

“ _Mine_ ,” Gibbs growled, when he finally backed off from the kiss. “Mine, you hear?” 

“ _Always_ ,” Tony croaked out, lost in the sensations overwhelming him. Then, suddenly, Gibbs stepped back. He kept holding Tony's wrists in place. Tony opened his eyes, dazedly wondering when he'd closed them. He regretted it vaguely, when he took in the way Gibbs looked. 

Breathing heavily, flushed in a way Tony had never seen, with a hunger written all over his face, burning brightly in his eyes, that made Tony wonder why he'd pulled back. 

“Wha- what?” Tony managed to get out, annoyed by the sudden interruption. 

“I want to fuck you,” Gibbs said matter-of-factly, his eyes still smoldering, and Tony squirmed in his grip, trying to get some relief from his aching arousal. 

“I'm going to cuff you to my bed,. When you can't move, I'm going to taste you. I'm going to touch you, Tony, _everywhere_. And I'm going to mark you. Bite you where you'll feel it. And I'm going to keep it up, for _my_ pleasure, until you're crying, you're so frustrated.”   

He leaned in to kiss Tony again, and Tony just opened his mouth to let Gibbs do what he wanted. Deep down, he'd always known this was how it would be between them. How he'd _want_ it to be between them.   

“You're gonna look so pretty when you cry,” Gibbs mumbled against his lips, before he pulled back again. Back where he could look at Tony. 

“Then I'm going to pull your legs apart and fuck you, Tony. Fuck you until you come, just from that.” 

“ _Please_ ,” Tony murmured, not sure how long he could stand Gibbs telling him these things. 

“Yeah, you'll like that, won't you? And when we're done – when _I'm_ done, we'll sleep. But I'll leave you cuffed. That way, when I wake up, there won't be any fuss when I fuck you again.”  

Gibbs pressed close again, full-body, and Tony arched against him. All he got out of it was Gibbs' lips on his ear, whispering softly, promising. 

“You'll be so sore and achy tomorrow, DiNozzo.” 

“Yes,” Tony begged, knowing in a distant way that when he came to his senses again, he'd be embarrassed – hoping he'd never come to his senses that way again. 

Gibbs pulled back, this time letting Tony go entirely, casting an evaluating glance over his partner. 

“Can you make it to the car?”  

Tony blinked, once, at the suddenly sober tone, before he caught on. He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket.  

“I'll make it,” he promised. 

He turned to get the door, but turned back towards Gibbs before opening it. 

“So... I get the distinct impression you _have_ done this before,” he asked, matching Gibbs' sober tone, but adding in some of his own innate humor.  

“Really?” Gibbs asked, dead-pan. “What was your first clue?” 

Their shared laughter was the promise of things to come. 


End file.
